A  LETTER  OF  HOPE 

WITH    A    PREFACE    BY 

Rev.  ELWOOD  WORCESTER,  D.D. 

Emmanuel  Church,  Boston 


LIBRARY 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

SANTA  BARBARA 


PRESENTED  BY 

MRS.    R.    C.    DUGAN 


UCSB    LIRARY 


• 


rm 


A  LETTER  OF  HOPE 


Hope 

From  Sir  Joshua  Reynold's  Win- 
dow, in  New  College  Chapel, 
Oxford. 


A  LETTER  OF  HOPE 


WITH   A    PREFACE 


BY 


Rev.  ELWOOD  WORCESTER,  D.D. 

Emmanuel  Church,  Boston 


NEW  YORK 

MOFFAT,  YARD  &  COMPANY 
1908 


Copyright,  1908,  by 

MOFFAT,  YARD  &    COMPANY 
NEW  YORK 


Published,  September,  1908 
Second  printing,  October,  1908 


The  Plimpton  Press  Norwood  Mass. 


THIS  BOOK 

IS  LOVINGLY  DEDICATED  TO  THE 

MEMORY  OF  MY  FATHER 

AND   MOTHER 


PREFACE 

This  little  book  contains  a  truthful  account 
of  a  moral  victory  over  physical  woes  which 
might  daunt  the  stoutest  heart.  It  is  the 
simple  and  modest  story  of  an  heroic  struggle 
maintained  for  years  against  fearful  odds  and 
innumerable  discouragements. 

At  a  time  when  so  many  voices  are  raised 
to  teach  others,  this  quiet  recital  of  what  one 
woman  has  done  to  help  herself  is,  in  my 
judgment,  of  great  practical  value.  This  woman 
has  come  out  of  great  tribulation  sustained  by 
a  faith  which  we  may  all  find,  if  we  will  seek 
for  it.  I  am  acquainted  with  the  events  recorded 
in  this  book  and  I  know  the  history  to  be  true. 
The  writer's  attitude  toward  her  malady  is  one 
which  strongly  appeals  to  me  —  ardent  faith 
in  God,  and  an  intelligent  willingness  to  accept 
whatever  help  may  come  from  man. 

ELWOOD  WORCESTER. 
August,  1908. 


FOREWORD 

The  following  letter  was  written  (without  the 
slightest  idea  of  its  ever  being  printed),  by  an 
invalid  to  her  pastor,  after  her  recovery  from 
many  years  of  suffering,  the  writer  consenting 
to  its  being  printed  only  after  being  repeatedly 
urged  by  several  well-known  clergymen. 

"  This  learned  I  from  the  shadow  of  a  tree 
Which  to  and  fro  did  play  upon  the  wall : 
Our  shadow  selves,  our  influence,  may  fall 
Where  we  can  never  be." 

So,  through  the  sunshine  of  God's  love,  may 
this  book  my  shadow  prove. 

HOPE  LAWRENCE. 


A  LETTER  OF  HOPE 

My  dear  Dr. 

You  asked  me  the  other  day  to  write  you  a 
letter  telling  some  of  the  experiences  of  my  life 
and  noting  down  also  the  means  which  have 
helped  me  most  in  recovering  my  health,  so  that, 
now  I  can  say,  "I  am  almost  well,"  after  many 
years  of  both  nervous  and  organic  disease.  If 
this  were  only  an  account  of  myself  or  anything 
I  personally  had  done,  I  could  not  comply  with 
your  request;  but  as  it  is  chiefly  a  record  of  what 
an  Infinite  Power,  entirely  outside  myself,  has 
enabled  me  to  do,  I  must  acknowledge  it. 

I  resolved  when  I  was  ill  that  I  would  only 
speak  of  myself  and  experiences  if  I  felt  it  would 
help  others;  and  perhaps,  when  you  have  read  my 
letter  and  see  the  lines  of  thought  I  have  already 
worked  over,  you  will  kindly  tell  me  where  I 
have  been  wrong  or  made  mistakes  and  also 
suggest  new  efforts.  I  have  been  told  it  was 

9 


10  A  LETTER  OF  HOPE 

not  the  greatest  general  who  made  the  fewest 
mistakes,  but  the  one,  who  in  spite  of  the  greatest 
handicaps,  wins  the  victory,  so  perhaps  I  may 
humbly  apply  to  myself  what  Solomon  says: 
"He  who  rules  his  own  spirit  is  greater  than  he 
who  taketh  a  city." 

Although  I  do  not  believe  in  heredity  as  com- 
monly taught,  still  I  came  into  the  world  with 
certain  tendencies  which  I  have  had  to  fight 
against  and  to  develop  if  possible  opposite  traits 
of  character  and  physical  strength.  In  my 
mother's  family  there  was  nervous  or  mental 
disease  and  on  my  father's  side  a  tendency  to 
consumption.  My  mother  was  an  incurable 
nervous  invalid  and  my  father  had  hemorrhages, 
though  no  disease.  From  both  my  father  and 
mother,  however,  I  received  in  early  childhood 
a  childlike  faith  and  trust  in  God  —  which  fact 
outweighs  all  inherited  tendencies  to  bodily 
disease. 

I  remember  a  happy,  uneventful  childhood, 
with  the  exception  of  one  severe  illness  and  a 
bad  fall  over  the  banisters,  from  which  I  was 
picked  up  unconscious,  and  when  I  came  to  my- 
self I  finished  the  sentence  I  was  saying  as  I  fell, 


A  LETTER  OF  HOPE  11 

and  apparently  was,  then,  as  well  as  ever.  At 
fifteen  I  realized  where  my  mother's  nervousness 
was  leading  and,  besides  my  school  work,  threw 
myself  heart  and  soul  into  the  effort  to  save  her, 
undertaking  the  housekeeping  and  many  other 
duties.  At  seventeen  I  was  ready  for  college, 
but  took  a  severe  cold  to  which  I  paid  no  atten- 
tion; and  just  as  I  was  going  to  pass  my  examina- 
tions, hemorrhages  set  in.  Even  now,  I  can 
hardly  speak  of  it,  so  keen  was  my  disappoint- 
ment, for  I  was  rather  a  book  worm.  My  physi- 
cian was  far  in  advance  of  the  times,  as  that  was 
twenty  odd  years  ago.  He  made  me  live  out 
in  a  tent  and  gave  me  other  rules  for  my  health 
which  are  now  used  in  curing  tuberculosis. 
K  Then  it  was  that  I  began  to  practise,  or  rather 
I  formed,  two  habits  of  thought,  which  I  would 
specially  emphasize  as  helping  me. 

1st.  Prayer  and  Intercessory  Prayer,  or,  as 
Bishop  Brent  calls  it,  "loving  one's  neighbor 
on  one's  knees."  This,  however,  is  too  sacred. 
I  cannot  go  into  it  even  to  you  further,  than  to 
say  it  certainly  is  the  best  method  to  keep  one 
from  becoming  self-centered;  for  one  must  learn 
to  love  and  to  do  for  those  for  whom  we  pray; 


12  A  LETTER  OF  HOPE 

and,  even  if  one  has  only  strength  to  do  little 
things,  such  doing   takes  one  out  of  one's  self. 

2d.  I  formed  the  habit  of  trying  to  have  the 
sense  of  praise  the  first  thought  on  waking.  I 
do  not  mean  thanksgiving,  but  simple  praise  to 
God  for  what  He  is.  Giving  of  thanks  depends 
somewhat,  to  be  honest  with  one's  self,  on  feel- 
ing or  mood;  but  praise  is  outside  one's  self,  and, 
if  the  habit  is  persisted  in,  becomes  natural, 
almost  unconscious,  and  comes  nearly  before 
one  is  really  awake.  I  can  liken  these  thoughts 
of  praise  only  to  the  soft  twittering  song  of  the 
birds  in  the  early  morning,  a  music  of  the  heart 
which  colors  the  whole  day.  Praise  I  found 
often  kindles  the  responsive  feeling  of  love,  even 
when  our  hearts  feel  cold  and  dull,  and  leads  us 
away  from  self  more  even  than  prayer.  Then, 
before  thinking  of  the  day's  duties  or  plans,  I 
relaxed  my  body  completely,  and  before  rising 
devoted  a  few  moments  to  thinking  of  the  force, 
the  power,  the  strength  stored  up  ready  for  use, 
as  in  a  great,  never  failing  reservoir  outside 
myself;  and  that  whatever  was  given  me  to  do 
that  day  I  had  only  to  draw  on  it,  and  to  act  as  a 
transmitter  of  that  force  and  strength  to  others. 


A  LETTER  OF  HOPE  13 

A  few  quiet  minutes  of  resting  in,  I  might  say 
bathing,  the  mind  and  soul  in  that  Divine 
strength  will  make  that  strength  come  to  you  in 
waves,  or  as  a  quiet  flowing  river,  or  even  in 
unconscious  ways.  Some  persons  may  say  this 
is  fanciful;  but  it  is  as  true  as  wireless  teleg- 
raphy or  sending  photographs  by  electricity  and 
many  other  recently  discovered  forces.  Per- 
sonally, of  course,  I  cannot  separate  this  strength 
from  the  thought  of  God,  a  Heavenly  Father, 
and  of  His  Son,  Jesus  Christ,  the  perfect  mani- 
festation of  that  strength.  I  found  added  help 
by  thinking  of  other  exemplifiers  of  great  power 
and  by  recalling  their  lives;  that  is,  if  I  woke 
early  enough.  At  night  on  retiring,  also,  I  re- 
laxed the  body,  and  with  the  thought  of  that 
Infinite  Power  under  me  fell  asleep  like  a  tired 
child  in  its  mother's  arms.  I  like  the  revised 
reading  of  the  verse  "  And  so  He  blesseth  His 
beloved  while  they  sleep,"  or  the  German,  "He 
givetb  His  beloved  Sleeping"  I  think  if  nurses 
and  all  others  who  care  for  the  sick,  the  blind, 
and  the  helpless  felt  more  that  they  were  only 
transmitters  of  strength  and  not  creators,  they 
would  be  able  to  bear  prolonged  strains  better. 


14  A  LETTER  OF  HOPE 

I  know  for  myself  that  in  taking  care  of  my 
mother  for  many  years,  as  she  grew  slowly  worse, 
I  could  never  have  endured  the  strain  without 
this  thought. 

But  to  return,  once  more,  to  the  wireless  tele- 
graph as  an  example  of  this  force.  Just  as  it  is 
necessary  with  this  invention,  that  the  receiver 
be  in  tune  with  the  transmitter,  so  it  is  with  us, 
our  receivers  must  be  in  tune  with  the  Infinite 
and  free  from  the  corroding  rust  of  self. 

My  disease  was  cured  by  living  an  out-door 
life,  and  I  was  again  able  for  some  years  to 
devote  myself  to  my  mother  and  to  church  work. 
As  a  clergyman's  daughter  I  had  many  calls  on 
my  strength,  so  that  the  doctor  often  said, 
"  How  do  you  stand  it?"  I  could  only  answer, 
"  It  is  not  I."  However,  after  much  sickness  in 
the  family  lasting  for  years,  with  many  other 
things,  I  broke  down  again  ;  this  time  nervously 
as  well  as  with  renewed  symptoms  of  consump- 
tion. My  wise  doctor  sent  me  to  the  mountains, 
where  on  a  cot  bed  I  simply  existed.  Each 
pleasant  day  for  weeks  my  cot  was  carried  out 
into  a  grove  near  the  house,  and  on  rainy  .days 
to  a  tent,  and  conscious  or  unconscious,  I  lay 


A  LETTER  OF  HOPE  15 

there.  One  incident  I  must  tell  you.  I  heard 
through  my  stupor  of  exhaustion  the  doctor  ask 
the  nurse,  "  Do  you  not  see  any  change  in  her 
all  these  weeks?  "  "  None,"  she  replied,  "  the 
hemorrhages  are  as  severe,  she  can  seldom  take 
more  nourishment  than  the  white  of  eggs  and 
malted  milk,  and  she  lies  most  of  the  time  in 
this  exhausted  semi-conscious  state."  Their 
voices  sounded  far  away,  but  the  doctor,  stooping 
suddenly  down  to  feel  in  the  grass  as  if  he  had 
lost  something,  roused  me  slightly.  He  handed 
the  nurse  the  broadest,  strongest  blade  of  grass 
to  be  found  ;  she  looked  at  him  surprised.  "  A 
nice  blade  of  grass?  "  the  doctor  said;  "  you 
have  been  here  all  summer  sitting  by  the  side  of 
Miss  -  -  didn't  you  see  this  grass  grow? " 
"  No,"  she  replied.  "  But  it  grew?  "  said  he. 
After  a  silence,  he  merely  added,  "Keep  on  with 
the  same  medicine  and  treatment,"  and  was 
gone.  The  nurse  stood  holding  the  blade  of 
grass  some  minutes  ;  then  dropped  it  and  went 
about  her  duties.  You  may  not  believe  it,  but 
that  nurse  was  a  different  and  more  hopeful  and 
helpful  nurse  from  that  time,  and  for  myself  I 
know  that  from  that  moment  I  began  to  get  well. 


16  A  LETTER  OF  HOPE 

Over  and  over  in  my  mind  that  day  went  the 
words,  "  but  it  grew."  Then  slowly,  I  asked 
myself,  "  how?  "  Why,  it  simply  drank  in  the 
sunshine  and  rain  ;  it  did  not  mind  being  beaten 
down  to  the  ground  by  the  storm  yesterday,  and 
slowly  "  I  will "  was  born  again  in  my  mind. 
"  I  too  will  grow  strong  and  well."  You  per- 
haps will  say  this  was  treatment  by  suggestion. 
It  was,  but  may  I  add  also  the  thought  that 
sometimes  the  vital  strength  of  the  patient  is  so 
low  that  she  must  be  treated  through  those 
around  her.  I  think  it  is  too  little  realized  how 
much  the  sick  absorb,  unconsciously,  or  I  should 
say  sub-consciously,  of  the  state  of  mind  of  those 
around  them.  Often  those  caring  for  the  sick 
do  not  realize  themselves  the  doubts  of  recovery 
in  their  own  mind,  and  think  they  present  a 
hopeful  and  cheerful  countenance  to  the  patient, 
which  is  in  reality  only  a  forced  one  and  the 
patient  feels  that  it  is  unnatural. 

While  speaking  of  "  suggestion,"  I  wish  -all 
physicians  had  the  methods  of  suggestion  which 
my  doctor  uses  ;  that  is,  when  visiting  a  patient 
not  to  ask  the  first  minute,  "  How  are  you?  " 
but  to  mention  some  topic  outside  the  patient's 


A  LETTER  OF  HOPE  17 

health.  I  did  not  realize  this  potency  until  my 
doctor  went  away  on  a  vacation  and  left  me  in 
another  physician's  care  ;  one  who  never  talked 
of  anything  but  my  aches  and  pains  from  the 
minute  he  entered  until  he  left  the  room.  At 
the  end  of  the  week  I  puzzled  why  I  gave  him 
so  much  worse  account  than  to  my  own  doctor. 
Then  I  decided  on  this  plan  ;  you  may  laugh 
at  me,  but,  as  I  could  not  make  the  doctor  talk 
of  anything  else,  I  tried  to  put  my  own  mind  on 
something  that  was  outside  myself.  While  I 
talked  to  him  I  thought  of  his  necktie,  tried  to 
notice  any  change,  whether  he  wore  a  different 
one  from  one  day  to  another.  Entirely  without 
meaning  to  be  rude,  at  the  end  of  a  few  days  I 
had  him  fingering  and  pulling  quite  unconsciously 
the  ends  of  his  necktie  and  I  had  to  put  my  mind 
on  something  else.  My  suggestion,  however, 
did  not  reach  so  far  as  to  lead  him  to  make  any 
change,  for  he  wore  the  same  suit  and  necktie 
every  day  the  four  weeks  he  visited  me.  When 
my  doctor  returned  I  spoke  to  him  about  his  own 
method;  and  he  said  he  put  nearly  as  much 
thought  into  the  process  of  suggestion  as  he  did 
into  his  diagnosis  and  prescriptions,  and  judged 


18  A  LETTER  OF  HOPE 

my  condition  far  more  often  by  the  way  I  re- 
sponded to  his  first  remarks  than  from  what  I 
told  him  of  myself,  and  therein  I  think  lies  half 
his  success.  I  told  him  jokingly  that  years  ago 
I  had  read  a  very  interesting  series  of  letters  aloud 
to  my  father  called  "  Suggestions  to  the  Pulpit 
from  the  Pew,"  and  that  when  I  recovered  I  was 
going  to  turn  the  table  on  all  my  doctors  and 
write  an  article  "  Simple  Suggestions  to  the 
Medical  Profession  from  a  Patient."  To  sum 
up  what  I  mean,  I  wish  doctors  and  also  visitors 
realized  what  a  mental  atmosphere  they  bring 
to  the  sick  and  leave  with  them.  It  seems  to  me 
surgeons  are  the  gravest  men  I  ever  knew,  and  I 
think  if  they  were  a  little  less  so,  some  of  their 
operations  would  be  more  successful.  Of  course 
they  take  such  great  responsibilities  in  questions 
of  life  and  death  it  makes  them  grave. 

And  now  that  I  am  speaking  of  mental  atmos- 
phere I  must  tell  you  of  one  of  my  failures. 
After  a  severe  attack  of  grippe  I  was  sent  to  a 
health  resort  where  every  one  was  more  or  less 
sick.  It  was  not  a  sanatorium,  but  in  the  hotel 
was  a  sun  parlor  where  those  too  ill  to  exercise 
spent  most  of  their  days.  Never  in  my  life  did 


A  LETTER  OF  HOPE  19 

I  hear  so  much  about  sickness.  It  was  nearly 
the  only  topic  talked  about,  and  as  you  say 
"  Health  is  contagious,"  so  I  believe  that  much 
talking  about  sickness  is  decidedly  injurious.  I 
wish  doctors  realized  how  much  patients  often 
talk  in  their  waiting  rooms,  and  especially  at 
health  resorts,  telling  one  another  all  about  their 
symptoms  and  pains.  I  amused  myself  by 
tracing  different  symptoms  from  one  person  to 
another  in  a  certain  class  of  nervous  patients 
during  the  first  two  weeks.  Then  one  morning 
I  tried  to  stem  and  change  the  current  of  thought 
in  the  few  patients  near  me  by  suggesting  that 
each  one  of  us  tell  the  best  and  most  amusing 
story  he  or  she  could  think  of,  not  about  sickness. 
This  idea  with  several  others  I  suggested  took 
for  a  few  days,  but  I  found  I  could  not  change 
the  tone  of  the  place,  and  after  some  weeks  I 
fled  from  my  Nineveh,  so  to  speak,  to  my  home 
and  then  had  to  wait  for  my  gourd  to  grow  and 
to  learn  my  lesson.  I  should  have  created  my 
own  mental  atmosphere  and  kept  it  clear  and 
pure  and  I  could  only  have  done  this  by  being 
more  by  myself.  Often  when  we  try  to  help 
others  we  undertake  too  much,  and  we  do  not 


20  A  LETTER  OF  HOPE 

give  ourselves  time  to  go  to  the  source  of  all 
strength  to  fill  our  reservoirs.  As  Christ  said  to 
His  disciples  when  they  asked  why  they  could 
not  cast  out  the  evil  spirit,  "  This  kind  cometh 
forth  but  by  prayer  and  fasting."  I  suppose 
fasting  means  self-denial.  How  difficult  this  is 
for  us  ! 

I  think  to  this  is  due  many  of  our  failures,  and 
also  our  lack  of  power  to  help  others.  I  know 
a  young  woman  who  worked  eighteen  years  in 
an  office  where  the  surroundings  were  intensely 
unpleasant  to  her,  but  she  created  her  own 
atmosphere  and  raised  the  tone  and  influenced 
all  around  her  so  that  when  she  left  the  change 
was  most  marked.  I  like  these  lines  of  Brown- 
ing: 

"The  common  problem,  yours,  mine,  every  one's 
Is  not  to  fancy  what  were  fair  in  life 
Provided  it  could  be,  —  but,  finding  first 
What  may  be,  then  find  how  to  make  it  fair 
Up  to  our  means,  —  a  very  different  thing. 

My  business  is  not  to  remake  myself, 

But  make  the  absolute  best  of  what  God  made." 

One  question  I  puzzled  over  much  during  my 


A  LETTER  OF  HOPE  21 

very  long  illness  :  why  the  minister,  the  doctor 
and  the  patient  did  not  usually  work  more  to- 
gether and  in  harmony.  Perhaps,  if  I  cite  one 
case  which  came  to  my  knowledge,  it  may 
explain  more  vividly  what  I  mean.  A  friend 
was  suddenly  taken  critically  ill  :  her  family 
were  most  of  them  so  far  away  that  they  could 
not  reach  her  in  less  than  a  week,  even  when 
cabled  to  come  immediately.  My  friend  had 
the  greatest  desire  to  live  until  they  arrived  and 
the  doctor  certainly  used  every  means  of  science 
to  prolong  life  except  this  most  important  one 
of  letting  her  see  her  pastor.  My  friend  ex- 
pressed very,  very  often  her  desire  to  see  her 
clergyman,  who  was  a  personal,  dear  friend  and 
a  cheerful,  true-hearted  man.  The  nurse  told 
me  afterwards  that  it  was  pitiful  to  see  with 
what  wistfulness  the  door  was  watched  and 
how  often  the  clergyman's  name  was  on  her  lips. 
Yet  the  doctor,  although  a  nominal  Christian, 
refused,  always  making  some  excuse  to  the 
patient,  but  to  the  nurses  and  servants  saying  : 
"She  will  think  herself  dying  if  she  sees  the 
minister  and  she  must  not  have  the  faintest  idea 
she  is  so  ill  —  do  not  let  her  see  him."  Her 


22  A  LETTER  OF  HOPE 

rector  called  daily,  but  was  always  met  with 
some  excuse  and  put  off.  She  died  without 
seeing  him  —  without  seeing  her  family,  with 
only  faithful  servants  around  her. 

Why  do  doctors  so  often  have  this  attitude 
towards  the  church  and  her  ministers?  This  is 
not  an  extreme  case.  I  cannot  tell  how  often, 
when  I  was  in  the  hospital,  if  I  asked  to  see  my 
Rector  or  have  the  Communion,  I  would  be 
answered  by  the  doctors  or  by  nurse  :  "  Why, 
you  are  not  so  very  sick."  '  You  are  not  dying." 
I  learned  the  only  way  to  disarm  their  fears  was 
to  smile  or  even  laugh  and  say  :  "It  is  not  be- 
cause I  have  the  faintest  idea  of  dying,  but 
simply  because  I  wish  to  get  well  and  also  feel 
that  I  am  getting  well  that  I  wish  the  Com- 
munion. I  believe  it  helps  one  to  live,  not  to 

die,  and  I  wish  to  see  Dr.  A because  I  think 

he  will  help  me  as  much  as  medicine."  It  does 
not  seem  to  me  it  is  the  minister's  fault,  and  yet 
something  should  unite  the  minister  and  doctor 
in  their  efforts  for  the  welfare  of  the  patient. 
I  hope  the  day  will  soon  come  when  this  need 
is  more  realized,  and  that  there  will  be  unity 
and  harmony,  not  jealousy  and  misunderstand- 


A  LETTER  OF  HOPE  23 

ing.  I  myself  have  been  greatly  blessed  by  the 
united  help  of  my  doctor  and  my  minister. 

Every  case  of  nervous  disease  is  different  and 
each  doctor  and  patient  must  work  out  the  ques- 
tion together,  but  you  ask  me  what  helped  me 
the  most.  I  found  on  the  mental  side,  first,  my 
power  of  control  was  at  fault.  I  set  about 
remedying  it  by  inventing  a  game,  in  which,  as 
I  was  intensely  restless,  I  pitted  my  body  and  my 
mind  against  each  other  as  two  personalities. 
Part  of  the  hours  during  which  I  had  to  rest  I 
relaxed  my  body  and  made  myself  keep  per- 
fectly still,  at  first  a  minute  by  the  watch;  then 
I  resolutely  made  up  my  mind  to  think  of  nothing 
that  length  of  time  and  if  I  failed  in  either  effort 
I  gave  a  black  mark.  Gradually  I  increased 
each  period  and  then  combined  the  two  exer- 
cises. I  found  this  game  quietly  persisted  in  two 
or  three  times  or  more  during  the  day  helped  me 
much  in  curing  my  inability  to  sleep  at  night. 

The  often  repeated  expression  of  my  physician, 
"Think  of  nothing,"  was  a  contradiction  and  an 
enigma  to  me  at  first,  until  I  tried  this  little  play 
and  learned  to  hold  my  mind  still  as  well  as  my 
body,  and  not  to  use  much  will  power  even  in 


24  A  LETTER  OF  HOPE 

holding  either  mind  or  body  still,  regarding  it  as 
play.  Often  the  will  is  even  weaker  than  the 
body  and  needs  rest,  and  when  recovering  from 
an  illness  needs  to  be  used  sparingly  and  with 
light  effort,  this  effort  should  afterwards  be 
gradually  increased.  A  resting  of  the  will  and 
even  mind  makes  the  force  accumulate  and 
strengthens  the  nerve  forces.  We  lose  much 
strength  by  useless  and  wandering  thoughts  and 
by  worry  more  than  all.  I  think  every  one  will 
acknowledge  that  it  is  more  often  our  thoughts 
and  fears  which  keep  us  awake  than  the  in- 
tensity of  pain  alone.  We  suffer  unnecessarily 
much  more  from  the  fear  of  long  duration  of 
pain  than  from  the  actual  pain  of  the  moment. 
We  continually  cry,  "How  long  is  this  to  last?" 
while  if  we  only  bore  the  pain  of  the  moment 
we  would  bear  it  better,  separating  and  taking 
each  moment  by  itself. 

In  nervous  prostration  one's  sense  of  the  rela- 
tive values  of  large  and  small  things  is  not  correct. 
We  magnify  some  small  things  and  at  times 
ignore  the  large  ones.  I  tried  not  to  think 
whether  things  were  large  or  small  to  me. 

I  found  much  help  from  doing  little  things,  — 


A  LETTER  OF  HOPE  25 

even  if  I  worked  only  for  a  few  minutes  at  a 
time.  Once  a  nerve  specialist  asked  me  what 
I  did  for  exercise.  I  hesitated  and  replied, 
"Why,  on  pleasant  days  I  work  in  my  garden 
and  window  boxes  and  take  as  long  walks  as 
strength  permits,  and  on  rainy  days  I  do  some 
housework  for  exercise,  just  little  things." 
"Good,"  he  said,  "  there  is  no  truer  story  of 
human  nature  than  that  of  Naaman  in  the  Bible. 
If  one  could  substitute  the  word  'nervous  pros- 
tration' for  leprosy,  it  would  read  the  same  as 
hundreds  of  cases  which  come  to  me  every  day. 
I  ought  really  to  be  honest  with  these  persons 
and  to  say  :  '  Give  up  your  carriage,  send  away 
half  your  servants  and  do  some  real  work. 
Sweeping  and  making  beds  bring  into  play  as 
many  muscles  as  gymnastic  exercise*;  instead  I 
have  to  make  up  long  prescriptions  in  which 
there  is  as  little  medicine  as  possible  and  long 
sets  of  gymnasium  rules,  otherwise  these  said 
well-to-do  patients  would  never  darken  my  door 
again." 

The  most  exquisite  Roman  and  Florentine 
mosaics  are  those  in  which  there  are  the  greatest 
number  of  infinitesimal  pieces  combined  with 


26  A  LETTER  OF  HOPE 

the  larger  and  rarer  stones  ;  so  in  the  mosaic  of 
life  may  it  not  be  the  doing  of  the  little  things 
faithfully  which  makes  it  most  beautiful ;  and 
to  invalids  may  it  not  be  the  special  gift  of  God, 
the  power  to  see  these  little  things  which  in  the 
rush  and  turmoil  of  life  busy  people  do  not  see 
or  have  time  to  do  ?  Would  it  not  be  well  to 
remember  the  verse  of  our  childhood  : 

"  Little  drops  of  water, 
Little  grains  of  sand, 
Make  the  mighty  ocean 
And  the  pleasant  land  ?  '* 

Certainly  the  pleasant  land  of  health  is  made 
by  the  little  things  we  do  or  leave  undone. 

Again,  I  believe  the  imagination  is  often  at 
fault,  and  I  found  it  could  only  be  kept  from 
drifting  into  worse  channels  of  thought  by  giving 
it  good  solid  food.  I  memorized  hymns  and 
poetry,  not  only  some  of  the  great  works  but 
bright,  invigorating  pieces  and  also  funny,  amus- 
ing rhymes  and  even  jokes.  I  translated  from 
German,  French,  and  Latin  into  English  and  vice 
versa.  I  wrote  children's  stories  for  my  own 
amusement  and  rewrote  novels  I  had  read, 


A  LETTER  OF  HOPE  27 

making  the  heroes  or  heroines  act  differently 
under  different  circumstances.  These  may  seem 
little  things  to  write  of,  but  they  helped  me,  and 
I  will  mention  later  how  they  specially  helped 
me  through  two  crises  of  my  life. 

It  is  difficult  to  keep  the  mind  from  dwelling 
on  sad  or  morbid  memories  when  one  is  shut 
in  much  of  the  time.  To  keep  bright  pictures 
before  the  mind's  eye  while  I  was  resting  I  had 
a  frame  placed  near  my  bed,  in  which  I  put 
photographs,  mounted  on  cardboard,  of  many  of 
the  most  celebrated  pictures  cut  to  fit  the  pretty 
frame.  These  I  changed  from  day  to  day, 
memorizing  them.  It  is  singular  how  we  think 
we  know  a  picture,  but  if  we  were  asked  to  take 
the  posture  we  could  not  do  it.  I  have  tried 
this  with  a  number  of  persons  and  not  one  of 
them  could  take  the  position  of  the  figures  in 
some  of  the  best  known  works  of  art.  I  memo- 
rized also  past  scenes,  and  the  places  which  I 
saw,  when  I  was  able  to  go  out  to  drive.  I  was 
once  told  by  an  English  clergyman  that  this  was 
a  habit  of  Dean  Farrar  and  that  the  power  of 
his  "  Life  of  Christ "  came  largely  from  the 
vividness  with  which  he  described  the  scenery 


28  A  LETTER  OF  HOPE 

of  the  Holy  Land,  from  his  memorizing  it  and 
revisualizing  it.  I  feel  I  have  mentioned  little 
things,  but  I  said  I  would  tell  you  how  they 
helped  me  when  two  crises  came.  Often  before, 
while  practising  these  methods  daily,  I  asked 
myself  the  good  of  them. 

When  I  was  recovering  from  my  second  break- 
down my  eyes  gave  out.  I  went  to  the  oculist 
to  hear  :  "  For  one  whole  year  you  must  not 
write  anything,  nor  read  any  written  or  printed 
matter;  wear  these  glasses  and  come  again  at 
the  end  of  the  year.  Don't  think  much  of  your 
eyes."  I  said,  "  I  never  can  bear  that :  I  live 
in  books."  He  replied,  "  I  thought  so;  see  if 
you  cannot  find  two  larger  books  than  any  that 
are  printed."  I  thought,  now  surely  all  these 
fears  and  dreads  and  horrid  thoughts  against 
which  I  have  been  fighting  will  come  in  and 
control  my  mind.  I  can  never  get  on  without 
books.  Now,  however,  looking  back,  I  can 
see  that  I  gained  more  during  that  year  than  in 
any  other.  First,  I  found  two  books,  the  Book 
of  Nature  and  the  Book  of  Human  Nature,  still 
open  to  me.  Second,  I  learned  really  to  go  to 
walk,  body,  mind,  and  soul.  Before,  I  had 


A  LETTER  OF  HOPE  29 

often  left  my  mind  at  home  or  carried  a  book 
with  me.  It  was  a  very  humbling  year.  I 
found  out  how  little  I  really  owned;  for  we 
really  never  own  a  book  until  it  is  so  much  a 
part  of  us  that  we  can  go  without  the  printed 
page.  It  came  to  me  that  very  little  of  what  I 
had  been  reading  I  would  take  with  me  after 
this  life,  and  this  experience  gave  me  time  to 
sort  out  and  pigeon-hole  much  I  had  read. 
What  I  had  memorized  of  poetry  and  pictures 
were  also  a  great  help  to  me,  and  at  the  end  of 
the  year  my  health  and  all  nervous  symptoms 
were  much  better. 

The  second  time  that  these  past  habits  of 
thought  helped  me  was  in  a  great  crisis,  when 
I  had  to  undergo  a  very  severe  operation,  so 
severe  indeed  that  nearly  every  doctor  said  it 
would  be  useless  and  I  might  not  live  through  it. 
As  I  would  die  if  not  operated  on,  I  took  the 
"  ghost  of  a  chance."  I  pass  over  the  first  long 
weeks  of  suffering.  When  the  surgeon  came 
to  take  out  the  stitches,  much  to  my  surprise  he 
turned  to  me  and  said  :  "  Pardon  my  asking  a 
personal  question,  —  but,  as  the  nurses  and  I 
watched  you  during  the  first  days  after  the 


30  A  LETTER  OF  HOPE 

operation  and  often  since,  even  when  your  face 
was  twisted  by  pain,  a  smile  passed  over  it  and 
you  looked  so  happy.  We  do  not  often  see 
persons  smile  like  that  here.  Would  you  mind 
telling  us  what  you  were  thinking  about  then?  " 
I  blushed  and  at  first  felt  that  I  could  not  answer. 
Then  I  said  to  myself,  there  is  nothing  to  be 
ashamed  of,  and  hesitatingly  replied  :  "  I  think 
my  mind  has  been  like  a  phonograph.  During 
the  past  five  weeks  there  were  impressions  and 
plates  passing  through  it  which  I  could  not  turn 
off.  You  know  what  my  life  has  been  for  years 
before  the  operation,  from  lounge  to  bed  and 
from  bed  to  lounge,  and  only  occasionally  getting 
out  of  doors.  To  keep  my  mind  from  being 
affected  by  my  nerves  and  my  sickness  I  have 
memorized  much  poetry,  and  have  also  written 
verses  both  comical  and  serious.  Then  I  mem- 
orized photographs  and  places  in  such  a  way 
that  they  were  all  so  deeply  impressed  I  literally 
could  not  turn  them  off.  These  things  kept  me 
from  feeling  the  pain  as  much  as  I  otherwise 
would.  It  was  like  floating  on  ever  moving 
streams  and  seeing  beautiful  pictures.  Then, 
besides  your  skill,  I  felt  little  fear  for  I  know 


A  LETTER  OF  HOPE  31 

that  underneath  me  are  the  Everlasting  Arms." 
This  last  was  very  hard  for  me  to  say  as  I  knew 
the  surgeon  had  no  religious  belief.  It  is  hard 
for  me  also  to  repeat  his  answer  to  you,  but  I  do 
so  that  you  may  not  think  this  was  at  all  my 
imagination.  He  turned  to  the  assisting  nurse, 
saying  :  "  When  I  see  cases  like  this,  I  almost 
believe  in  a  Divine  Power,  when  I  see  how 
delicate,  nervous  women  go  through  such  severe 
operations.  I  thought  when  I  first  saw  Miss 
Hope  she  had  only  a  '  ghost  of  a  chance,*  but  it 
is  only  another  lesson  of  the  power  of  mind  over 
matter.  She  will  break  the  record  and  go  home 
days  earlier  than  most  patients "  ;  and  I  did. 
Doctors  came  to  see  me  who  had  prophesied  that 
I  could  not  live  through  the  operation  and  said 
it  was  a  miracle.  It  was  no  miracle.  First  and 
foremost  it  was  God's  blessing,  to  which  was 
added  the  skill  of  the  doctors  and  surgeons  and 
the  simple  unconscious  habits  of  mind  which  I 
had  been  forming  for  years.  "  It  is  the  same 
God  which  worketh  all  in  all." 

One  experience  of  my  life  before  I  was  sick 
helped  me  much  in  hours  of  depression,  for  I 
have  had  hours  when  I  was  intensely  depressed  ; 


32  A  LETTER  OF  HOPE 

only  I  could  always  feel  the  sun  shining  behind 
the  cloud,  and  the  thoughts  and  impulses  never 
came  into  the  "real  ego."  I  suppose  few  women 
ever  went  down  into  a  mine.  I  did  once,  and 
into  a  shaft  where  you  had  to  descend  and  as- 
cend by  ladders.  As  we  were  returning  to  the 
surface  my  companion  said  :  "  Wait  a  minute  on 
this  round, — stand  firm  and  twist  your  arms  about 
this  round  so  and  hold  fast,  and  then  throw  your 
head  back  a  little,  think  of  nothing  else  but  look 
up.  I  am  going  to  put  out  the  lantern";  which 
he  did  before  I  could  remonstrate,  and  such  a 
blackness  I  never  imagined.  I  looked  up  and 
there  was  the  evening  star  shining  with  such 
brilliancy  and  power  straight  down  the  mouth 
of  the  shaft  that  I  could  not  utter  a  word  or 
think  of  anything  else.  He  lighted  the  lantern 
at  last  and  we  climbed  to  the  surface  in  silence. 
Was  he  not  wise  not  to  say  or  suggest  anything 
to  my  mind  about  the  abyss  that  yawned  below 
me?  That  evening  star  has  always  had  new 
power  and  meaning  to  me  ever  since  I  saw  it 
from  the  depth.  And  so,  after  our  sickness  and 
periods  of  depression,  the  stars  of  faith  and  hope 
that  shine  through  our  darkness  have  new 


A  LETTER  OF  HOPE  33 

power  for  us.  Sometimes,  after  trying  every 
round  of  the  ladder  of  effort  to  pull  myself  out 
of  a  feeling  of  depression,  I  have  had  to  wait  on 
some  round  and  hold  fast.  A  doctor  once  said 
to  me,  "Don't  be  afraid  of  those  hours  of  waiting 
after  you  have  tried  every  means  to  change  the 
current  of  your  thoughts;  fear  only  makes  them 
worse.  Bear  them  as  you  would  severe  pains, 
after  you  have  tried  every  remedy,  with  patience 
offering  the  thoughts  themselves  even,  up  to 
God,  in  some  such  way.  "  I  cannot  stop  these 
thoughts  or  feelings.  Take  them  from  me  if  it 
be  Thy  Will."  And  when  I  stopped  worrying 
about  them  they  stopped  after  a  very  short  time. 
Doctors  say,  "  While  there  is  life  there  is  hope." 
I  propose  turning  this  saying  round,  While 
there  is  hope  there  is  life.  Hope  cures  more 
diseases  than  medicines.  "  Even  we  ourselves 
groan  within  ourselves  waiting  for  the  adoption, 
to  wit,  the  redemption  of  our  body.  For  we  are 
saved  by  hope,  but  hope  that  is  seen  is  not  hope, 
for  what  a  man  seeth  why  doth  he  yet  hope  for. 
But  if  we  hope  for  that  we  see  not,  then  do  we 
with  patience  wait  for  it,  and  every  man  who 
hath  this  hope  in  himself  purifieth  himself." 


34  A  LETTER  OF  HOPE 

I  have  often  kicked  against  the  pricks,  but  to  be 
frank  with  you,  some  of  the  kickings  were  the 
growing  pains  of  my  soul  goading  me  on  to  fresh 
endeavor. 

Speaking  of  growing  pains  of  one's  soul  leads 
me  back  to  my  opening  words  about  receiving 
from  my  parents  something  of  their  strong  child- 
like faith  in  God.  The  way  my  father  answered 
our  childish  questions  and  trained  us,  has  been 
a  great  help  in  understanding  my  Heavenly 
Father's  teachings  during  many  years  of  my  life. 
I  remember  once  going  to  my  father  when  study- 
ing the  catechism  and  asking  him  about  a  ques- 
tion of  doctrine,  concerning  which  my  mother's 
and  father's  churches  were  at  variance.  He 
explained  the  meaning  of  the  words  to  me,  then 
when  I  turned  and  said,  "Which  shall  I  believe?" 
he  replied,  laying  one  hand  gently  on  my  head  : 
"  I  shall  never  tell  you  which  to  believe." 
Then  with  his  other  hand  he  took  up  a  sponge 
and  explained  to  me  how  it  had  been  made, 
then  added,  "  Your  brain  resembles  very  much 
this  sponge  :  these  are  the  years  when  you  are 
building  cells.  Learn  all  these  things  now  by 
heart,  and  then  absorb  and  think  them  over  as 


A  LETTER  OF  HOPE  35 

the  sponge  absorbs  water  ;  later  you  will  decide 
what  to  believe  and  perhaps  even,"  he  added 
jestingly,  "  when  you  are  pressed  you  will  give 
out  in  another  form  what  you  have  absorbed." 
My  father  seldom  fully  answered  our  questions 
at  the  time  when  we  asked  them,  or,  if  he  did, 
he  told  us  some  story.  Usually  he  allowed  some 
incident  or  experience  of  our  own  lives  to  show 
us  the  lesson  or  answer  the  question.  His  habit 
was  to  take  us  each  week,  generally  on  Saturdays, 
on  a  walk  out  into  the  country  and  there  answer 
our  questions.  The  week  following  my  ques- 
tions he  took  us  up  to  a  high  hill  where  we  knew 
well  all  the  surrounding  country.  After  we  were 
tired  of  playing  he  called  us  to  him  and  asked  us 
to  point  out  the  land  belonging  to  different  men 
whom  we  knew,  and  to  find  the  boundaries  to 
their  properties,  and  when  we  exclaimed,  "Why, 
we  are  so  high  up  we  can  hardly  see  the  fences 
and  stone  walls,"  he  answered,  "  That  is  just 
what  I  wanted  :  you  asked  me  the  difference 
between  your  mother's  belief  and  my  belief,  and 
which  was  right.  Remember  the  higher  up 
you  live  and  the  nearer  you  are  to  heaven,  the 
less  the  stones  and  fences,  or  the  differences  in  the 


36  A  LETTER  OF  HOPE 

faith  will  be  seen.  Your  mother's  church  is  more 
like  Mr.  S.'s  estate  where  all  his  flowers  and  fruit 
are  raised  under  glass.  Mine  is  like  a  garden  of 
cabbages,  turnips,  and  onions;  for  the  working 
man.  Both  have  their  part  in  God's  vineyard 
and  kingdom.  When  you  go  back  to  your  work, 
don't  forget  how  little  the  difference  counts  and 
remember  the  visions  you  received  when  you 
were  high  up.  Live  much  on  the  height.  Be 
often  alone  with  God."  So  I  think  it  is  that  our 
Father  who  is  in  heaven  teaches  us  our  lessons 
by  incidents  and  experiences  of  health  and  sick- 
ness if  only  we  wait  and  watch  for  his  answers 
to  our  questions.  Now  that  I  am  coming  back 
to  health  and  to  work  I  wish  to  recall  some  of 
the  things  and  give  them  to  others  as  far  as  I  can. 
This  is  a  poor  account  of  a  very  uneventful 
life  and  of  the  means  I  used  to  get  well.  You 
know  Ruskin  says,  "The  best  of  a  book  is  the 
thoughts  it  suggests,"  and  this  letter  of  mine  may 
suggest  something  to  you.  I  have  put  it  into 
every-day  language  and  expressed  myself  in- 
adequately, but  it  is  a  record  of  an  Infinite  Power 
beyond  and  outside  me.  I  feel  very  humble. 
I  might  have  done  so  much  better. 


A  LETTER  OF  HOPE  37 

Now  I  will  close  and  once  more  lock  the  doors 
of  the  past  ;  I  have  given  you  some  of  the  keys. 
For  myself  I  will  live  in  the  spirit  of  the  words 
which  I  chose  after  that  operation:  "  Forgetting 
those  things  which  are  behind  and  reaching 
forth  unto  those  things  which  are  before,  I  press 
toward  the  mark  for  the  prize  of  the  high  calling 
of  God  in  Christ  Jesus." 

Yours  sincerely, 

HOPE  LAWRENCE. 
January,  1907. 


A     000658 '    11     o 


